


Nearer To Dying

by megSUPERFAN



Series: Children of the Barricade [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Friendship, Gen, I'm Sorry, Joly's Death, Musical-verse, On The Barricade, Pain, Whump, only they aren't singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megSUPERFAN/pseuds/megSUPERFAN
Summary: "Part of him burned with pain, and that was terrifying. Part of him was so much without pain he wondered if all of him was there, and that was even worse. Voices rushed around him, and with his own voice he tried to call. They were dying. And so was Joly."
Relationships: Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras & Joly (Les Misérables)
Series: Children of the Barricade [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663738
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Nearer To Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Not connected to my other barricade fics in this series.
> 
> Inspired by this post/audio clip:  
> https://aheartfullofjolllly.tumblr.com/post/102985376842/joly-dying-enjolras-help-me-i-cant-feel-my
> 
> [Clip is a line from the Dallas production of Les Mis: "Enjolras, help me! I can't feel my legs."]

"How fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder...There's a darkness that comes without a warning..."

_~Fantine's Death (Come to Me)_

* * *

Part of him burned with pain, and that was terrifying. Part of him was so much _without_ pain he wondered if all of him was there, and that was even worse.

Perhaps part of him was still normal, still alright, still _working_ , but if that was so, there was no way Joly could tell.

Voices rushed around him, and with his own voice he tried to call.

They were dying.

And so was Joly.

Fear was a winged monster with talons that tore at his heart. Dying wasn't peaceful at all; dying was terror and torment and the pain that _he knew should be there_ but was not.

Dying was falling, wavering on the edge of two worlds, one bloody, the other black, and waiting only for the last breath of wind to topple him over.

One person stood out amid the blurs that should have been distinct citizens, distinct friends. It wasn't a surprise. Not really.

Enjolras had always stood out in a crowd.

A scream or a cry or a groan struggled from Joly's throat. He couldn't hear himself over the sound of crashing waves in his own head.

" _Enjolras!"_

His friend was by his side in an instant, a strong hand grasping Joly's, very much alive. Still not enough against the gravity of death that seemed to swarm around Joly and wrap him in curtains of horrifying darkness.

_I don't want to die._

Joly's breath formed itself somehow into panicked words, begging, "Help me."

Hastily (but scared, so scared) came the questions. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"

 _Everything's wrong,_ replied his staggering heartbeats, _Everything's wrong. Everything's wrong._

The only answer Joly could give was a small whisper. "I can't feel my legs."

Enjolras bit his lip, his mouth opening to say something that was never actually said. His fingers squeezed tighter around Joly's, and it hurt, but Joly was thankful for it, thankful that he could at least feel _something._ Enjolras turned suddenly and shouted. The sound was loud to Joly's ears. (Death seemed to make all of his senses fragile. Easier to break.) "Combeferre!"

The world was cold now, but Joly was too weak to shiver.

He heard Enjolras again. "Can he be moved someplace safer?"

"I don't know." A different hand was touching Joly now, a different voice was speaking. Combeferre was there. His arm lifted Joly up a little, then was suddenly removed. Joly heard a low gasp.

Too much blood. Far, far too much.

To keep from whimpering his fear was a battle. To keep breathing was a war.

Combeferre was shaking, his words barely held together, falling apart.

"He won't make it."

Dying was falling, and Joly was dying. Held by a thread to the brink of the living world.

"No," said Enjolras. "Joly-"

The thin edge of the void crumbled.

Joly closed his eyes and let himself fall.


End file.
